The last best place
Hasn't our weather been quite glorious
lately? With apologies to any of those
poor souls not blessed enough to live
in Montana - the past few days have
been beyond amazing. After a rather
long and late spring of cold and rain,
our sun finally came out. Meaning
that every day since has been a blue
blaze of wonderment. There are times
when frankly I must pinch myself as
I once again face the realization that
we live in one of the most beautiful
places in our world. God, I love it!
It's funny but I'm still questioned fairly
regularly by friends about how Frank
and I are "surviving." Apparently life
on the range is akin to walking on the
moon. While their angst is charming,
I must admit that their consideration
that living in paradise is a handicap
still befuddles. One accepts tradeoffs
where ever they opt to hang their hat.
In Manhattan a tiny apartment costs
more than a palace elsewhere. Yet at
least in theory, the benefits of urban
life far outweigh any liabilities.
What I did for love
We all make sacrifices. And for me,
not having Bergdorf Goodman just
around the corner is a fairly major
one. However, living in a beautiful
home that would cost ten times more
elsewhere is worth any inability to
grab a Cire Trudon candle in a pinch.
The fact is I've given up little since
moving to what most others seem to
consider Siberia. That's because deep
down I'm just a simple soul. Well...
actually... in truth I'm rather a loner
and hence completely self sufficient.
Most assume that I'm quite social.
Yet in reality, I get more satisfaction
in setting a table and preparing the
meal than chatting with my dinner
partners. We've yet to throw a proper
cocktail party to launch this house.
Part of that is due to the fact that
part of me prefers to hide. While
I'm certainly not Miss Havisham,
there's little more that I enjoy than
puttering about the house. Frank
and I are a perfect pair. Hence we
simply enjoy living simply alone.
Don't get me wrong, frontier living
has not lowered my standards. Thus
never will a jar of preserves sit on
my breakfast table! Nor will we dine
sans candlelight. My definition of
"basics" is anything but that. Oddly
a part of me prefers to enjoy the finer
things sans an audience. Savoring
the bliss of singular self satisfaction
is rarely matched if external forces
get involved. Is this a phase or am
I slowly turning into a slightly more
elegant version of Ted Kaczynski?
Hermetical tendencies aside, I think
I've finally found my niche. Yesterday
was my first consulting gig over the
wire. What is better than shooting off
one's mouth while sitting in skivvies?
And... getting paid to do just that?!
In the end it seemed to go quite well.
Hence hopefully I've found a way to
leverage my years of experience sans
ever having to enter an office again!
Could this be just another agoraphobic
excuse to never leave the house? Or
have I finally hit the JACKPOT?!
I reject the concept that singularly
savoring the moment is anything
but beneficial. Most spend their
lives focused on others. Whether
job, family, friends, or all of the
above. Somehow I found a way
to get out of said rut and frankly
I plan to never go back there again.
It's MY time and selfish or not, I
prefer to only occasionally share
it. So please don't take my rather
isolationist strategy personal. As
usual, it's all about me... NOT you.